


Camera Shy

by PegaPonyPrincess



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Insecurity, Post-Game, Scars, Self-Hatred, idk I guess Jess is technically naked, so take that for consideration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 12:32:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4746593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PegaPonyPrincess/pseuds/PegaPonyPrincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A dream is a dream. Not a reality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Camera Shy

She starts with her face, an idle finger tracing a scar that runs across her cheek. Careful to not apply pressure, but to confirm that it's truly there. Her once lively eyes are dull, unable to believe even her own reflection in the mirror. How could she recover from something so haunting and fatal?

Next, on her forehead. Too much pressure is applied, and she gasps at her own touch. A brief shot of pain shoots through her head and she bites down on her lip. A bruised and busted lip is the _last_ thing she cares about now a days.

Even with the dirt cleansed from her body, she doesn't look any better. She _knows_ there's no way in hell she's going to ever fulfill her dream now.

Now tracing down her neck, she pauses and hovers over it. One of the deeper scars, caused by being pulled from the window of the cabin. The memory comes at an alarming speed, much like her predator, and she inhales sharply.

_Sharp, sharp claws that dug into her skin. Moving much faster than she would like, screeching at ungodly volumes as it drags her through the snow. Her throat's killing, screaming as loud as she possible can. In just a simple hope that Mike would hear her, save her even. She's too young to die -- too young._

She shivers, feeling her blonde hair rest against her bare back. Blue eyes find the mirror once more, and she stares at nothing in particular for a long moment. Her body continues to ache, despite it being two days after the incident. She can't help but wonder if she's ever going to get _better._

The cut on her chest looks, and feels, the worst.

Jess knows better than to even touch the wound. It's the freshest of them all, and the most painful. She hardly remembers when, or how she retrieved such a cut, but she's so so so grateful for Mike showing up when he did. Saving her from something she doesn't even want to imagine.

Her silence continues, unable to move from her chest as she observes her breathes. Takes in how the scar sets with each one -- how it's going to be a permanent mark on her body. One that no photographer will want to snap.

_When she awakes to darkness, eeriness of the mines, her heart races. Her first thought is solely,_ why am I not dead _? And then,_ is Michael okay? _Stuck limping around in a dark, damp mines was not on her to do list that evening, (in fact, the only thing was to sleep with Mike) and to her everlasting fear, that creature came back._

_Thin skin that appears as armor, bones bearing through and teeth so disgusting that she's surprised she didn't scream. That's her only true look, and not once did she ever dare to look again._

This time, a soft cry leaves her lips as her fingers fall. She is _imperfect._

She stands like this for a long time, silent cries as she observes her scarred body. One that can't be framed and put into magazines, one that nobody's going to look at and say 'Damn, I'd hit that!'. _No no no_ , they're going to be appalled, disgusted even. Complaining to editors, the photographers, and then eventually her.

"Jessica?" A rumble of the door: her heart jumps. She's now into a bad habit of locking every single door. "Babe? Can I come in?"

The door clicks, announcing it's ability to be opened. The creaking of the door causes her to close her eyes, to breathe, and stay still. Even knowing who's in the frame makes her heart race a little faster.

"... Jess," his voice is softer than she's expecting. Not that she minds too much.

When she opens her eyes, she greets herself once more in the mirror. Only this time, Mike stands behind her with a similar solemn expression and a hand reaching for hers. A mangled one at that, missing a few beaten fingers that she hasn't had the opportunity to ask him about yet.

"Hey lover boy," her voice cracks, but neither say anything about it. "I hope you have another plan in mind; those fingers of yours aren't going to do the job for you."

"Oh trust me, I have plenty of tricks underneath my sleeves."

Their words are empty, and they're both aware of that. The dread that bears their eyes is obtrusive, and neither can even manage a half of a smile.

His hand finds her's finally, slowly and carefully grazing over the back of her hand before he raises it to her chest. He parts his lips to speak, but then stops and bows his head slowly. Jess can hear the silent, _I could have been faster_. He's very careful about kissing her neck, knowing to avoid the slowly healing wound.

"Michael," she lets out with a breath. "Don't."

Guilt burns in his eyes, and it pains her to see that. "Jessica," he says, making their eyes meet in the mirror. His other hand glides up her hip, sure to avoid the cuts that are gradually making their way to scars, then to stop underneath her breast.

_"You're so hot", Mike offers as her hands work with her own white shirt. Lifting the fabric up and over her own head, she wears a coy smile while a finger indicates him to come closer. He obliges at once, a smirk of his own clear as he kisses at her neck and bites gently. With a moan of delight, she wraps his arms around his neck, eager to continue._

Mike is quiet once more, studying as Jess advances on her scars. Nothing which ones she dares to touch, and which she bites down on her lip and makes an attempt to not cry at. Her breath shakes as it's coming clearer to her that her dream is simply a _dream._ Not a reality she can make any more.

"You're beautiful."

Her eyes close at his words, unable to look any longer. Lips form a frown and she can't bring herself to believe such a pity lie. "No, not me."

Jess misses the frown the Mike wears, the honesty that burns in his eyes.


End file.
